


Not Yet

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Movie Night, Post Season 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, Prompt Fic, The Philadelphia Story - Freeform, screwball comedy, skoulsonfest2k14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2537342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Party at the Stark Tower.<br/>The Philadelphia Story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [RosePark15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePark15/gifts).



> This is basically still a skoulsonfest2k14 contribution. I'm sorry I didn't post it during the last week of August - I didn't have the time/inspiration to finish it. I had this idea and basically wrote it only in October. Hope you still like it & that it turned out alright. ;)  
> Still pre-Season 2.
> 
> Prompts:  
> [THE AVENGERS]; [SCREWBALL COMEDY]
> 
> For RowboatCop. Because of the screwball comedy, mostly. :)  
> And for RosaleeDonovan because I think you might like the setting. :)  
> Sorry if it turned out cheesy. I tend to overdo things (especially in autumn).

The Christmas party was the first time Skye entered the Stark Tower remotely legally. They'd met on numerous occasions, of course - Tony Stark was always one to stick his nose in missions that didn't concern him, and one could't deny that _sometimes_ , he actually came up with a helpful idea - but this was the first time she didn't have to hide around corners when walking though the Tower.  
Or, wait. Scratch the not hiding part.  
"Philip Coulson!" Stark's unmistakeable baritone called from behind them. "I see you've obeyed my royal command to bring around your -" - he shot Skye a side glance smile whose amount of dirtiness included still seemed to be somewhere within the zone of 'socially acceptable' - "charming assistant."  
Coulson flashed a smile that would have killed any ordinary idiot.  
"Not my assistant."  
That made Stark's smile even dirtier.  
"Oh, she's _not_? I _see_ , Director. Your, uh - _partner_ , then?"  
"It's not like that," said Coulson, his tone still polite, but openly hostile now.  
Stark seemed taken aback by the harshness.  
"Not _yet_ ," Skye added, very much amused by the scenario, and the baffled look they received in return made even Coulson hold back a full-on smile.  
And they just walked away, leaving Stark trying to drown his surprise by gulping down the colourful content of his glass in one motion.

"He's not a bad guy, you know?," Coulson told her when they ordered at the bar, his amusement audible. "I know," Skye grinned back. "Just the batshit crazy creative genius of the Avengers team, am I right?"  
"Spot on," Coulson said as they moved their champagne glasses towards each other.

A few hours in - after dancing Limbo with Stark, Barton and a very drunk Maria Hill, watching Dr Banner do actually very funny slapstick, thumb wrestling with Jemma, dancing tango with Natasha Romanov to make her prove a point and watching Trip make Jemma laugh -, the average alcohol level of the still huge crowd obviously having risen, Skye seeked a little refuge in a seemingly undisturbed room just one or two doors down the corridor. She opened the door to the very dimly lit room and almost tripped over - Coulson. He was sitting on the floor, sleeves rolled up, his back against a surely very expensive couch, a wine glass at his side, apparently watching a 30's or 40's film projected on the wall. He immediately turned at her entrance, then paused the movie.

His big smile was a surprise.  
"Skye, hello. Tired of the madhouse?"  
She grinned. "I needed some air. And some space." She closed the door and walked over to him to sit on the floor next to him. Looking at him a littly coyly, she added, "And some sane company, maybe. In case I'm welcome."  
His face lit up. "I can't guarantee sanity - or complete sobriety, for that matter -" - he waved at the wine glass - "but of course you're welcome -" - he gestured at the wall - "to watch a piece of genuine entertainment with me."  
She looked at the frozen movie. "But I know this!," she called out. "It used to be one of my favourites at the orphanage. You only got to watch a movie on your birthday, and I always chose _The Philadelphia Story_." He seemed very pleased with her reaction.  
He poured some wine into the glass and handed it over to her. "My mother and I used to watch it sometimes when she was on holidays." Reaching for the remote, he hit play and they watched in silence for a while, only offering each other the glass for a few sips and Coulson refilling it every now and then.

When the film was over and the DVD automatically skipped back to the main menu (showing a few moments from the movie in slight slow-motion), Coulson hit the mute button, and suddenly, the dry reality came crashing down on him. He was actually sitting on the floor in Stark's home cinema room, with his sleeves rolled up, had emptied a bottle of horribly expensive Italian wine with one of his agents, who had actually watched most of his favourite screwball comedy with him, sitting next to him in a far too beautiful dress.  
"And how did you like it?," he asked, immediately unsure whether he should try to sound like his patented smug agent self or not. "Still a favourite?"  
"Definitely," she smiled, and it made him even more insecure of how to act. But she took the burden of not knowing what to say away from him by starting to talk about the characters of the movie, making it easy enough for him to discuss them with her. 

"I've always identified with Miss Imbrie," she said, her eyes glowing. "I mean, she is such a badass character. Very professional, very polite, but won't take shit - oh, sorry - from anyone. Knows what she wants."  
He nodded, already completely immersed in the conversation. "She lets the others do their thing and takes action when it's needed. I think she's the most human of them all."  
"I know, right?" Skye smiled as if he'd paid her a compliment. "Pity, though, that Connor doesn't really realize she loves him. Even though he does get jealous when he hears about her having been married before. I mean, come on. I know life hasn't been too nice to him and that creative work definitely consumes most of your attention, but she's been right before his eyes all the time." She took a sip from the almost empty wine glass and Coulson suddenly found it very hard not to focus on her lips. When she lowered it, he carefully took it from her hand, for some reason trying not to touch her fingers and to touch them at the same time, and finished it by drinking the last sip.

"What do _you_ think about Macaulay Connor, Coulson?," she asked, and for some reason, the conversation had begun to sound much too earnest. It was supposed to be movie banter, but there was something about the whole situation - both of them on the floor, next to each other; the muted main menu of the _Philadelphia Story_ casting dim and moving shadows across the room; the party noise suddenly becoming perceptible again; them having watched a classic movie as friends (were they friends?) - that added an almost inappropriate seriousness to their discussion, and it made Coulson feel very uncomfortable.  
He swallowed and opened his mouth to answer her question, and Skye watched him with such intense interest that he tried to tell himself this whole conversation was _actually_ about a screwball comedy and that he was a fool for suspecting there was anything else. He couldn't resist replying honestly, though.  
"Well, I think he's done a lot of good work but really neglected himself. He's briefly been stuck imagining life with a woman like Tracy Lord, who's definitely not someone he could fall in love with, but who's around and seems to play his league. All he's been doing is writing, drinking and complaining about the system he works in, but he knows he can never be the Dexter Haven type. He's never going to be the witty, desirable guy. It's just not who he is."

Coulson suddenly stopped explaining, realizing he'd probably said more than he'd wanted to. Anxious about her reaction, he looked her in the eye, but she just smiled, and he found himself wishing he hadn't drunk any wine at all, or that he were twenty years younger - well, or seventeen, to be fair -, or that Skye wasn't sitting on the floor next to him in an unbelievably elegant, but simple dress, her arm resting on the couch behind them, her head tilted because she'd been listening closely, and smiling at him as if she were actually enjoying his company. He wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him like this, and his instinct told him that as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., it was probably his duty to run away from her beaming smile and the warmth of her eyes.  
"Well," she said, and Coulson held his breath, "I think he's been doing an exceptionally great job. But he's been shutting poor Elizabeth Imbrie out all the time. They make a great team, and the banter is great, but I'm not sure he's realized she's really his friend, you know? I'm afraid he still sees her as an amazing colleague, and I know he finds her attractive, but he's been scared to actually talk to her, you know? Don't you think?"  
He was unable to do anything but nod.

"But he _must_ know she's been into him all the time. I mean, it's so obvious. Already from the beginning. The way she teams up with him against their boss. All those little things. I think he knows, if he's being honest."  
She looked at him, and Coulson could almost hear his heart drop a few floors. He put down the wine glass he'd still been holding and reached out to her, not sure what he was doing, and ended up grabbing her hand in a slightly awkward movement. "I think she's been too patient with him," he rasped, his voice suddenly not at his command anymore. And there was her smile again. "I'm not saying you did everything right, Coulson. But you know I'd go anywhere with you." Skye didn't know why she was being this direct - I mean, what was she thinking? poor little love-struck agent girl - but even though her heart was beating so fast that she was sure it was going to overheat and explode anytime, one look into Coulson's eyes told her she had made the right decision to sit down in front of the couch with him to watch a movie during Stark's Christmas party. She was going to say something, but reconsidered as she watched his face closely. He seemed to be caught in her smile, so she didn't stop. Coulson prayed prayed _prayed_ to God that she'd be the first one to resolve the situation because he didn't dare to move, not even to withdraw his hand from hers. 

And resolve it she did: she softly tugged at his arm to make him lean over a little, then just hugged and _held_ him until he felt he almost had to hold back sobs. "You're not alone in this, Coulson. You know we're partners. Director or not." She felt him smile against her cheek. " _Thank you_ , Skye," he croaked. When they pulled apart, he smiled at her, exactly the way he did when she'd walked into the room.  
With the contact between them broken, Coulson felt the moment was suddenly over completely, that they were to get up and go back to the party, and back to routine after that. That the awkwardness of the past weeks between them had been resolved, but that this was the ending point, that this was as far as this was going to go. It must be the stupid wine, he thought. To think she cared for him more than as a friend! Rolling his sleeves down slowly, he tried to remember her exact words about Miss Imbrie, and found there was nothing about their conversation that had to be interpreted romantically. He got up and put on his suit jacket, then picked up the wine glass and bottle to put them on a small glass table. He seemed to be all business again, and as he went to open the door, only to turn around briefly to smile and thank her for watching the movie with him, she slowly walked over to stand in the doorway. Suddenly shy herself, her eyes lowered, she said, "Coulson, wait."  
When she looked at him again, he felt he had to silently swear he wasn't going to kiss her, because there was something in her eyes that made him feel much too vulnerable.  
She put one hand around his neck, then stepped forward carefully and kissed him. Thoroughly. But only once. And he found himself kissing back with every fiber of himself. Then she pulled away, looked him in the eye and beamed at him.  
He was lost.  
"I'll hail a cab. See you at the Playground?"  
Once again, all he could do was nod, but as the events of the night slowly sank in and Skye had already entered the elevator, he smiled. 'Not yet'.  
And made a run for the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please tell me what you think! :)


End file.
